


Love Is So Delicious

by latinaeinstein (oneforyourfire)



Category: EXO (Band), Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 13:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17407376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/latinaeinstein
Summary: Dongwoo calls it love, what they have. Minseok, Minseok calls it completion





	Love Is So Delicious

**Author's Note:**

> 2014 fic

Minseok is still buzzing when Dongwoo crowds into him. The post performance spike in adrenaline is still a residual haze, and he’s hot, muscles strained, sweaty hair in his face, _buzzing_ , when Dongwoo digs his forearm into Minseok’s chest, pinning him to the waiting room wall.

The collar of his shirt is too tight. Sequined and ugly, it bites into his Adam’s apple, steals his breath further as Dongwoo kisses him. Head tilted down, scent overwhelming, fingers in his hair, and Minseok’s lips part automatically.

And as always, with Dongwoo, it becomes too dirty, too deep, too fast. Minseok sags into him, tilts his chin up for more, licks his way into Dongwoo’s pliant mouth. And Dongwoo’s hands shift to grip Minseok’s face, thumb tenderly at his cheeks. Minseok’s own wrap around to grope at Dongwoo’s ass. The material is sticky against his sweaty palms, but the flesh underneath is firm, shapely. And Minseok spares one lingering grope before urging Dongwoo forward.

Their hips meet, and Dongwoo moans into his mouth, presses even tighter, chest to chest, crotch to crotch. His thighs are thick, his cock half hard, and Minseok grinds upwards into him. The friction has him panting, hands splaying across the span of Dongwoo’s back. Dongwoo collapses further into him, rocking harder, faster.

And the familiarity of this has done nothing to lessen his sensitivity, his eagerness for this.

Minseok is left gasping soon enough.

“You did so well,” Dongwoo manages, patronizing but affected. And Minseok is reminded of whispered dreams of success, fame, actualized in these moments, commemorated with these encounters.

“You’re not so bad either,” Minseok breathes.

And Dongwoo pulls back enough to laugh, pant against Minseok’s cheekbone, then his neck. Dongwoo sucks almost languidly as he continues to rock into him. And Minseok’s skin is still buzzing, practically _vibrating_ now with the additional heady punch of arousal. “I’m proud of you,” he says. “Wanna—wanna blow you so bad right now, yeah?”

Minseok’s head lolls to the side in a lazy nod, and Dongwoo scrapes his teeth against Minseok’s throat as he slumps down.

And this is hardly their first celebratory blow job.

It’s been trial by error, a sexual process of elimination, and Dongwoo is no stranger to Minseok’s body. They’ve been doing this since they were fucking _kids_ , pimpled and awkward and clumsily in love. They learned how and where and just how long to touch, lick, kiss to make each other fall apart. Dongwoo’s memorized all the extra sensitive parts: the seam of his thigh, the spot just beneath his left ear, his nipples, his hipbones. Minseok curses the lack of time, space, even as he relishes in this fast, forbidden thing.

Dongwoo calls it love, what they have. Minseok, Minseok calls it completion.

“I locked the door,” Dongwoo reassures, dragging Minseok back to the present, dragging Minseok back from sentimentality, as he slides slowly to his knees. Dongwoo’s forehead skates down Minseok’s heaving chest, lingers at his clothed navel. His chin drags purposefully across Minseok’s half hard erection.

“For me?” he asks. And he’s being playful, coy, fluttering his eyelashes, biting his lower lip. Minseok can easily blame it on the adrenaline, the excitement, but he still wants to give credit where it’s due. He nods sluggishly, blinks down blearily, and Dongwoo’s body is so firm against his. A warm, steady weight. His eyes are sharp, smile soft.

Dongwoo’s locked the door, but they don’t have a lot of time. There’s a dinner scheduled after this, members that will miss them. Dongwoo knows this, but he still makes a point of being painfully teasing. Just, just barely.

He scrapes his teeth against Minseok’s waistband, huffs out a laugh against his navel, when Minseok trembles.

Dongwoo’s lips whisper against the seam of Minseok’s zipper, dragging, forming the softest, most enticingly warm, wet words against Minseok’s clothed cock. Minsek arches forward, strains, urges him closer with a breathed _Dongwoo_. And Dongwoo, he realizes, is mouthing the words to the song against the starched fabric. Swirling his tongue near the head of Minseok’s cock, he drawls, “So delicious,” noses upwards to trace the zipper as he murmurs about how Minseok is his dream boy. He’s teasing, testing, and Minseok curses softly, rasps out another moan.

Dongwoo continues in a circuit, head to base, up the length of his zipper, then back down, repeat before he gets impatient, relents to Minseok’s breathy encouragements. He pulls back enough to unbutton Minseok’s fly, tug hard on the zipper. The seams tear, the zipper snags, and Dongwoo laughs. It’s loud, brash, even as breathless, affected as he is. The rush of air is hot, painful against Minseok’s sensitive skin.

“The noonas are gonna kill you,” Minseok chides weakly, but Dongwoo laughs again.

“Let them kill me. I’ll have died for a good cause. Minseok’s cock.” His voice drips with disgusting affection, and he nuzzles into him again.

“Shut up,” Minseok breathes.

Dongwoo doesn’t, though. He lets out a hum of appreciation, low and filthy, and it echoes across Minseok’s skin, curls deliciously to skitter along his veins. It’s almost as good as the tiny circles Dongwoo is tracing with his tongue. Hotter, more delicious now, with less fabric separating him from the liquid heat of Dongwoo’s perfect mouth. Dongwoo licks, mouths, tasting through fabric, dampening, heating. And the cotton is clinging tight, almost painfully against Minseok’s cock. Dongwoo nuzzles his cheek against the outline of Minseok’s erection, and Minseok bites back a moan. Dongwoo drags down Minseok’s boxers with a lingering kiss to one trembling thigh, a small, soft sigh.

“Delicious,” Dongwoo puffs, and Minseok’s hips arch to chase the brief, fleeting friction. “So nutritious,” he says. Minseok swats weakly, half-heartedly at his shoulder, briefly mortified at the cheesiness of it, but then Dongwoo swallows all the way down with a moan. And Minseok is caressing, _appreciating_.

Minseok’s head thumps back against the wall, but he barely registers the spike of pain, can barely feel anything past the sudden, molten pleasure. He fights to keep his eyes open, watch the wonderful way Dongwoo moves. Familiar but no less beautiful and necessary. And Minseok is still terribly sensitive to Dongwoo’s everything. Easy, eager, exactly what Minseok wants and needs and _loves_.

Dongwoo sucks succelently on the head, focuses on the crown of Minseok’s cock, and Minseok tangles his fingers in Dongwoo's hair, pants helplessly loud. Dongwoo drags his lips across his skin, plush and plump, skating over pulsing flesh. And Dongwoo moans, too. Because Dongwoo almost likes giving more than receiving. His descent this time is much slower, more thorough, almost like he’s savoring the stretch, the taste.

And Minseok’s heart, cock swell at the distressingly genuine _want_ in Dongwoo’s eyes.

Dongwoo blinks up at him, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and his tongue curls deliciously around the underside as he glides forward and back. It’s all slick slurps, slow slides.

“Minseok,” Dongwoo groans in between bobs. The starched, stiff material is chafing against his cheeks, his lips. And they’re increasingly swollen, sinful, distressingly pink. “So delicious,” he teases, too. But the rasp of his voice, the tears in his eyes, the swell of his lips, they all undercut the bite.

“Fuck,” Minseok gasps. He’s already staving off orgasm. Too distressingly fast. Jaw slack, eyes heavy lidded, he fucks forward with tiny, stuttery thrusts.

Beneath the awful material, Dongwoo’s shoulders shift, roll, and Minseok’s fingers scramble to wrap around them as his knees buckle.

Dongwoo’s hands hold Minseok steady, and his eyes flicker up. Heavy, dark, eyelashes twinkling with tears as he takes more, holds himself there. Dongwoo’s hair is sticky with a mix of sweat and gel, but Minseok can’t help but tangle his fingers into it, tugging hard. He whimpers as Dongwoo swallows to the very base, makes this choked off sound, caressing in the most delicious way. Dongwoo pops off again slick and sloppy.

“So delicious,” Dongwoo purrs, rasps. He laughs, the air blowing hot against Minseok’s cock. And then he’s back. Sucking again, sucking as much as possible. And Minseok’s in love with Dongwoo’s oversized mouth.

Dongwoo flutters his eyes shut as he slides up and down, slower and smoother now. Deep.

And his lips are dragging in the most exquisite way, catching on his skin. Minseok barely has a chance to pant his name in warning before he’s releasing into his beautiful, perfect mouth.

Dongwoo hums in appreciation again. Minseok watches in a daze at the theatrical, beautiful way Dongwoo swallows. “So delicious,” he starts to stay, before Minseok’s finger drags across his plump lower lip, offers him the excess come that’s slipped out. Dongwoo’s tongue is warm and wet against Minseok’s thumb, and Minseok groans as Dongwoo sucks too hard, too long.

Dongwoo shifts to lave his tongue against Minseok’s pointer finger, too, across the nail bed, the cuticle. He swallows down to the second knuckle. He closes his eyes as he does, drags his tongue, his lips back and forth. Minseok’s hips twitch forward in weak want, and they definitely don’t have time for that again.

“You, too,” Minseok says instead, pulling his fingers free using his free hand to tug Dongwoo upward by the hair.

Minseok doesn’t fall to his knees for him, but he’ll make up for it later, he promises softly. As he settles instead for simple, sufficient.

Peeling fabric—two laters, worth—down just enough, coaxing Dongwoo closer. And Dongwoo is so hard, quick to breathe that it’s because he loves sucking him off, quicker to thrust into Minseok’s loose grip. And Minseok nuzzles his nose against Dongwoo’s cheekbone as he cradles the familiar weight briefly, almost fondly before tugging just exactly how Dongwoo likes. The elder’s pants break off into a high-pitched, drawn out moan.

Dongwoo is, as always, so loud. Rewarding every flick of MInseok’s wrist with a hitching whine.

And Minseok has had Dongwoo’s cock in his fist, in his mouth, in his ass, brushing against his stomach, his back in their brief, beautiful postcoital cuddle sessions.

Minseok knows what Dongwoo wants, needs, and he needs and wants those things just as much.

And Minseok knows how to ruin him, too.

Minseok mouths as Dongwoo’s sweaty neck, drags his lip in a deliberate circuit from ear to throat, and the fingers of his free hand tease over one pebbled nipple, pinching and then caressing. He quickens his pace, tightens his hold.

Dongwoo becomes louder, sloppier, needier, curling further forward, jerks brief, breathy moans rushing against Minseok’s damp hair.

“Dongwoo,” he says, and Dongwoo’s teeth are biting into his shoulders, his moans vibrating, echoing. “Dongwoo,” he repeats, deliberately deeper, more demanding. “Want you to come.”

He digs his thumb into the slit, whispers Dongwoo’s name in encouragement, pulls back enough to watch. And Dongwoo’s face pinches in pleasure, brows pressed together, jaw slack, eyes flutering, he manages another desperate _Minseok_. But his face softens completely when he comes, a certain calm, sensual serenity, as he meets Minseok’s eyes, stutterfucks and then spills into Minseok’s hold.

Dongwoo tugs him forward in gratitude, still clumsy, limbs leaden and too strong, he pulls Minseok too tight, kisses him too hard. Too much tongue, the angle wrong. He laughs against his lips, nips at his tongue. He whispers that he loves him, and Minseok melts into it, kisses the corner of Dongwoo’s mouth, his chin. He murmurs the same. Dongwoo's answering smile is blinding.

Dongwoo calls it love, what they have. Minseok, Minseok calls it completion.


End file.
